


His Funeral March

by oh_imintrouble



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Introspection, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith’s dad is dead, Lance wants him to go to the funeral, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Road Trips, Soul-Searching, because Texas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 05:50:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9643331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_imintrouble/pseuds/oh_imintrouble
Summary: The last thing Keith is expecting to hear is that his father is dead. It had been years since he'd last seen him, so if he were being honest, he didn’t really care. Lance isn't having any of that.---Keith and Lance drive down to Texas for the funeral, and Keith is forced to deal with his emotions.First chapter is short, the rest will all be at least 3K words.





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> sooooo I've spent the last week in Texas and I remembered that everyone jumped on the whole "KEITH IS TEXAN OMF" and this just kinda happened??? traveling leaves you with a lot of time to just think guys

_“I...I'm not sure how to say this.”_

Keith sighed, unable to contain his irritation any longer. He didn’t like phone calls in the first place, and he especially didn’t like them when the person calling him wouldn’t just get to the goddamn point. “Just lay it on me,” he said, moving to take a seat on the counter when his uncle told him he should sit down.

_“I'm...real sorry, Keith. Your dad, he… he passed away. I got a call from a hospital in California, they're gonna send his body back home for the funeral.”_

...That was it? Really? Keith had assumed he kicked the bucket years ago. He rolled his eyes as he pushed himself back down to his feet, going back to get the popcorn he'd left in the microwave.

“Okay. Uh. Sorry to hear that. You doin’ okay?”

The line went completely silent, and for a second he thought the other man had hung up. Then he heard him clear his throat, and Keith cringed, trying to mentally prepare himself for the onslaught of emotions. He knew his uncle and dad were close growing up, but after his dad skipped town, Dan never had any trouble voicing how much he hated his brother for leaving. But death was hard on everyone, and it was never easy hearing his uncle cry.

 _“I'll be okay, kiddo,”_ he said, his voice cracking, “ _but how ‘bout you? I know you haven't seen your old man since you started high school, but you… you missed ‘im, didn't cha?”_

He shrugged though Dan couldn’t see him, and moved to pull a bowl from the cupboard. “Honestly? No, not really. He left. Besides, I had you and Sarah and Cassie.”

 _“And you know you'll always have us, your aunt and cousin love the hell outta you. But it's_ okay _to miss him.”_

Keith tucked his phone between his ear and shoulder as he opened the bag, dumping it into the plastic bowl. “Okay. Well. Anything else?”

_“Well I was hopin’ you could make it down for the funeral. If not for your dad then for Sarah and me. It's been rough, and we'd love to have you back home.”_

He wrinkled his nose, the idea of going back home something he hadn’t wanted to consider, well, ever. “I'll think about it,” he lied, deciding he would wait to come up with some kind of excuse like he couldn’t get the days off work instead of admitting he just didn’t want to.

_“Alright, well just let me know. We can make up your old room here so you don't have to worry about motels or anything like that.”_

“Will do. Talk to you later,” he said, waiting for Dan to say his goodbye before hanging up the phone.

With that unpleasantness out of the way he popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth before carrying the bowl to the living room where Lance was waiting for him, movie still paused but on a noticeably different scene.

“Seriously dude?”

Lance shrugged, letting the arm that was draped over the back of the sofa drop to Keith’s shoulders as he took his seat beside him. “What? This is where we were.”

“Uhuh,” he muttered, leaning into his boyfriend.

“What was that about anyway?” Lance asked, giving him a squeeze.

Keith just shrugged at first, the back of his hand covering his mouth as he finished chewing the mouthful he’d practically inhaled. “Uh, they found my dad? I mean, he’s dead, but yeah.”

 _“What?!_ ”

“Yeah y’know how he’d been missing or whatever? Well, not missing I guess, just _gone_ , but yeah. I guess he died in some hospital in California.”

Lance was moving before Keith could even think to stop him, plucking the bowl from his grip and setting it on the coffee table before turning to face him completely. “Are you okay? I know you’re Mr. Macho and you still don’t like to cry in front of me or whatever, but seriously, _are you okay?_ Do you need anything? I-I think we have tissues in the bathroom or I could go out and get some-”

“Lance, you’re rambling.”

“And you’re being freakishly calm about this!”

“It’s just not that big of deal.”

“Not that big- dude! It so is! Why aren’t you reacting to this?!”

“Okay first of all, if I actually was upset this is a terrible way to comfort someone, just for future reference. And second, I uh… kinda assumed he was dead anyway when he ran off. Like, he just _left_ Lance, and he didn’t ever try to call me or anything and it was just easier to assume that. It’s been what, six years now? I’ve had my time to grieve.”

Lance stared at him, searching for something, _anything_ in Keith’s gaze that showed he wasn’t really okay, but saw nothing. Though he sat back in his previous position he still didn’t seem very happy about the situation, his lips pulled down in a frown and his brows furrowed. He fidgeted as Keith retrieved his snack and leaned over his bouncing leg to grab the remote and resume the movie.

It was only two minutes later that Lance was snatching the remote again and hitting pause. “Okay but _seriously? That’s it?_ You tell me you just found out your dad _died_ and I’m just supposed to drop it?!”

“Yeah?”

“Well I can’t do that!”

Keith sighed, dropping his head back against his boyfriend’s arm, and closed his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re expecting me to do here. Cry? Would it help you out if I cried? ‘Cause I can just like pluck a nose hair and we can get that over with.”

“No just… you _seriously_ don’t care?”

“Nope.”

“You’re just gonna act like nothing happened?”

“Yep.”

“Are you at least going to the funeral?”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Keith,” he whined, gently jostling him. “You have to go. Closure and all that.”

He stared up at his boyfriend, hoping that if he glared long enough Lance would drop it, but he didn’t even flinch. He just met his gaze, his worry all too evident in his usually bright blue eyes, and eventually Keith had to look away.

Keith sighed, long and dramatic, and reached his hands up to rub down his face. “ _Fine,_ okay, fine. But if I go you have to go with me. I refuse to be the only one suffering in Texas. And you better not be expecting me to cry then either. I’m just gonna go to the funeral, see my family as little as I can, and treat this whole thing like any other roadtrip you drag me on.”

It was too quiet for too long for comfort, and Keith chanced a glance up at Lance. His boyfriend looked deep in thought, but when he noticed Keith he seemed to snap out of it.

“So does that mean I can play musicals the entire time?”

“Don't you always?”

“Yeah but… you're really not upset? I don't want to irritate you if you're _actually_ upset, just when you pretend to be.”

“I'm _fine,_ ” Keith insisted, already beyond tired of having to repeat that. “Seriously, Lance, just treat this like a vacation or something. It's warm in Texas right now, we can hit up the gulf and pretend it's not winter.”

That seemed to do the trick, because just like that his eyes lit up, his lips stretching into a wide grin. “Really? We can go? I thought you lived up north!”

“Yeah, my uncle's up in Dallas. We can probably go straight to the coast though and just swing by on our way back.”

“Hell yeah! This is gonna be great! We can go to that carnival on the pier and walk on the beach at sunset and all that romantic junk.”

Keith quirked a small smile as his boyfriend rambled, and he shook his head fondly. Maybe going back home wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.


	2. The Big Dipper and Orion’s Belt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The drive from Minneapolis to Galveston is a long one, and driving late at night always leads to some frankly unnecessary soul searching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’know what you have a LOT of when driving from Santa Fe to Denver? Time. Y’know what you have NONE of? Fucking cell phone reception.  
> I mean on the plus side I got two chapters done during those seven, slow, painful hours.

It was approximately fifteen hours from Minneapolis to Dallas, and another four hours from Dallas to Galveston. With the next nineteen hours in the car looming over him, Keith was second guessing his decision. It wasn’t _that_ important that he go, was it? He could just skype his aunt and uncle, apologize for not being able to make it down, and boom, problem solved. No forty hours in a car, no week full of fast food drive-thrus, motels, and truck stops, and most importantly, no awkward funeral with extended family he hadn’t seen since he graduated high school four years ago.

Lance must have been from another planet, because he wasn’t dreading any of it. All that he could talk about for the last three days since they agreed to drive down was the trip. He told all their friends, his coworkers, even _customers_ it they would listen to him about the big trip he was going on with his boyfriend and all the great plans he had in mind--conveniently leaving out the entire reason they were going in the first place. To be fair they agreed to keep the whole funeral thing to themselves for privacy’s sake, so he couldn’t complain. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t mope. Which he definitely did. Though for the most part Lance ignored it, ever bright and chipper despite his boyfriend’s sour mood, and the night before they were supposed to leave, he couldn’t sit still.

“Okay so if we leave at five, add an hour or two for stopping for gas along the way and getting food we should be at the beach by…” he let his voice trail off as he calculated the hours, his brows furrowed and lips slightly pursed.

“Two in the morning,” Keith supplied, packing away the rest of his clothes and toiletries. He left his whining boyfriend to take his duffel down to the car, already knowing damn well Lance would need help carrying all his crap in the morning--he would insist he was on top of things then do something stupid like forget one of his bags or drop the one with his more fragile luggage.

When he went back to the apartment he lingered around the door a moment longer, shifting his weight from one foot to the other a little awkwardly. “Do you want me to take anything else down right now?”

“Nah, I got it. I'm gonna need some stuff out of these in the morning anyway.”

“If you say so,” he sighed, locking the door behind him. It was already nine, and he wasn’t feeling even remotely tired despite forcing himself up earlier that morning in hopes of adjusting his sleep schedule for the trip. He would just have to gorge himself on coffee in the morning he supposed.

Nevertheless he went to their bedroom, and flopped onto the bed, immediately turning towards the mattress to embrace his pillow. He had hoped that isolating himself would quiet his thoughts and he would be able to fall asleep, but it did quite the opposite. What was he doing? Seriously. He never even came out to his uncle, but there he was, bringing his boyfriend down to meet all of them--and at his father's funeral no less. There was literally no way that could go over well with his old-fashioned, Texan family members. And Lance had such a...big personality, it wasn’t like he would be able to just keep to himself and pass under the radar, oh no. All the attention would be on them. But no one would say anything about it--not when he was grieving the loss of a parent though, instead they would just _stare_ and _judge_ like Keith wouldn’t notice.

Maybe he should still cancel. Or go on the trip and just leave Lance in the hotel and go to the funeral himself. Or-

“Hey baby, are you still awake?” Keith hummed, and the mattress dipped under Lance's weight as he curled up behind him. “I just… I'm really happy we're doing this together. The reason we're going sucks, but I'll make sure to keep your mind off it the best I can,” he murmured, securely wrapping his arm around Keith’s waist, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

It was comforting in a way he didn’t really understand.

“I am too,” Keith admitted, his voice soft, and reached down to set his hand over his. “It'll be fine.” Whether he was saying that for Lance or for himself, he wasn’t sure. But it helped to say it out loud.

Somehow he slept. He managed to quiet his thoughts enough to drift off, and all too soon Lance's alarm was waking them both. His boyfriend groaned, loud and dramatic, and he dropped his arm over his face.

“Why did we decide to do this so early?” He whined, but still pushed himself out of bed.

Keith said nothing, just glared at the ceiling as if it had personally offended him, before finally rolling off the mattress. Without a word he stalked off to the kitchen and started brewing coffee. He would get a couple thermoses of coffee for them while Lance went through his extensive morning ritual, and then they would be on the road. The long, barren, boring road. Joy.

As he expected, he helped Lance with his bags while juggling the coffee in the other arm, then promptly plopped into the passenger seat of the car.

“You’re on driving duty first,” he muttered before taking a long swig of his drink. He was more alert now but was still wishing death on the moon and stars. When Lance got in the car he passed over the other thermos, leaning his head back against his seat to look at him. “It's a fourth creamer and sugar.”

“Just the way I like it,” he sighed happily, and turned on the car. He turned the heater on full blast to combat the chill of the early February morning, then plugged the aux cord into his phone. “Alright, nothing too hype just yet, I don’t need you wanting to kill me, but nothing too chill, don't need you falling asleep… how ‘bout some Hamilton?”

“Are you gonna cry over ‘It's Quiet Uptown’ again?”

“ _No._ Even though it's a beautiful melancholy about grief and forgiveness and you just don't have a soul. Besides, that's like two hours away,” he said, tapping his phone, then set it down as ‘Alexander Hamilton’ started playing.

The first couple hours of driving were peaceful, filled with Lance singing along--quietly at first then straight up bellowing the lyrics to act two--and Keith just staring out the window, watching the cities and fields go by. The two were far more alert now so Lance set Rent to play next. He sang along enthusiastically and even managed to convince Keith to duet a few of the songs with him.

It was fun. Keith actually found himself forgetting what they were driving for, and he let himself just lean back and relax. He finished off his coffee and when they stopped at the first gas station to fill up and get breakfast, he grabbed another for good measure. Sure, he might end up restless and jittery but that was better than dozing off and leaving Lance alone--even though his boyfriend insisted it would be alright. Lance moved past musicals and started playing his “get hype” workout playlist, shaking his hips the best he could in the car seat and belting out the words to every song that came up. He serenaded Keith with ‘La Bicicleta,’ and more than once his boyfriend had to remind him to keep his eyes on the road through his laughter.

Despite his previous reprimand, Keith applauded him when the song ended and Lance gave a dramatic little bow, feeling lighter than he had all week. Even if his family didn’t accept him or they hated Lance, he didn’t care, because Keith was pretty sure he loved him enough to make up for anyone that didn’t.

“Any requests?” Lance asked, glancing at him from the corner of his eye as he picked up his phone. “I could put on my edgelord playlist for you. That is, if you can guess the name of it.”

He stared at him a moment, looking thoroughly unimpressed and almost pained. “It's called ‘Keith’...isn't it?”

“Why yes, yes it is.”

As they crossed the state line from Iowa to Missouri, All Time Low started up from the speakers, causing Keith to roll his eyes.

“Ah yes, so edgy. ‘Coffeeshop Soundtrack’ is the devil's music.”

Lance laughed, loud and bright, and reached one hand over to shove his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Oh come on, you love this song! This song is like, the pinnacle of our relationship.”

“Oh please, do explain.”

“You don't remember Pidge’s party forever ago? We kept fighting and they were getting super mad and kept turning the music up and this song started playing and we stopped fighting just to sing along.”

“I don’t sing in front of other people,” Keith pointed out, turning to face the other man with his back leaning against his window and one foot up on the bench style seat tucked under Lance's thigh.

“You were drunk.”

“I retract my previous statement. Still don't remember that though.”

“Aw man, seriously? That’s when I realized I had a crush on you,” he admitted, keeping his eyes on the road but draping an arm around Keith’s leg.

“While I was drunkenly singing along to pop punk?”

“Yeah,” he grinned, glancing at his boyfriend. “You know I love your voice, and you had this look on your face--when you get all nostalgic--and I was just like, wow. Since when is Keith hot?”

Keith snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes, turning to watch the fields pass by over his shoulder. “So that's when you realized you wanted to fuck me?”

“No! I mean, yeah, but it was more than that thank you very much! When you realized I was singing with you your eyes got all bright and you were blushing and smiling, and something just clicked in my head, like ‘holy shit he looks so happy. I want to make him look like that all the time.’”

Now he was blushing, the warmth in his cheeks spreading to the tips of his ears, and he pointedly stared away so he wouldn’t have to admit how much that affected him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He could hear the smile in his voice, knew that sappy, lovesick puppy look in his eyes. “What about you? When did you realize you had a thing for the Lance man?”

“I'm still questioning that honestly.”

“Wow! Rude!”

Keith laughed when he swat at his leg, and he playfully nudged his thigh with his foot. Lance had already admitted it to him, he might as well, right? “You really want to know?”

“Yes,” he sniffled, still feigning hurt.

“That day in art class when that girl accidentally spilled paint on you and she started panicking but you just laughed it off and made a comment about blue being your color anyway,” he said, unable to keep the small, fond smile off his face. Keith knew if it had been him he would've scowled without meaning to and scare the poor girl, but Lance just _laughed._ His knee jerk reaction was to laugh and make a joke, and if that wasn't the sign of a good person, he didn’t know what was.

“That was the first day of class though, wasn’t it?”

Oh, now he remembered why he didn't want to admit it.

“N-no.”

“ _Keith!_ That was _months_ before Pidge and Hunk made us all hang out!”

“What? No. It was uh… totally… after that… Shut up, don't look at me.”

Lance laughed, but it wasn't condescending or mocking, just _happy._ “Man I thought you hated me then! You were always such a dick to me!”

He ran a hand through his hair almost sheepishly, and dropped his gaze to his lap. “You know I'm bad at stuff like that…”

“Aww, Keith, baby, that's so cute though. It all makes sense now!”

“Please stop talking.”

“Nope! You looove meee,” he sang, jostling his leg.

“I take it all back I hate you.”

“That sounds fake, but okay.”

“I hate your face and your legs and your stupid smile.”

“Mhm.”

“And I hate Shakira.”

He gasped, his eyes wide, and moved his hand from Keith’s leg to rest over his own heart. _“You take that back!”_

 

It was dark when they stopped for dinner, the clock on the dash shining “9:30” bright and proud. They had stopped for gas and the bathroom just three times since noon, opting to just eat quick snacks like chips and jerky from a gas station instead of getting real food. The original plan was to just go through a fast food place and eat in the car, but Keith announced he would sooner die than get back in the car just yet. So they stood outside the Jack in the Box, leaning back against the trunk of the car while a random playlist of trap music, classic rock, Lady Gaga, and Panic at the Disco blared from the open windows.

Lance finished his sandwich first, and was far more focused on the sky than his boyfriend’s slow eating beside him. The one plus side to there being literally nothing but fields and the occasional hill on their route  was the lack of lights polluting the night sky. He stared up at the stars, a small smile tugging at the sides of his lips, and cocked his head slightly.

“Hey Keith?” He hummed around his sandwich. “What's your favorite constellation?”

He heard him stop chewing a moment, then a quick pickup before he swallowed. “What makes you think I have one?”

“You have a favorite type of _cloud_ , in what world would I think you don't have a favorite star?”

“...Fair enough. Um.” He leaned in close, turning his gaze up towards the night sky, and looked around for just a moment before pointing up. “There, right there. The Big Dipper.”

“Why that one?”

“When I was really young dad and I lived out in the middle of nowhere outside of Dallas, and on nights I couldn't sleep he would take me outside and tell me stories about the stars. They were all bullshit, but it was nice. According to dad the Big Dipper made up a big bear and the Little Dipper was its cub. Dad uh, called me his lil dipper until I started middle school and got embarrassed by it.”

“So you were the cub and he was the Big Dipper?”

“...Yeah. Whenever I went to a friend's place or stayed at my grandma's growing up I would get scared and call my dad and he would tell me to go outside and look up at the stars and find the Big Dipper…”

Lance noticed him get quiet and look back down at his sandwich, and he decided to drop it. He loosely wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders, but kept his gaze on the sky, looking for something specific now. It wasn’t until he found it that he jostled Keith, and pointed his free hand where he wanted him to look.

“Okay, see those? Orion’s belt?”

“Yeah?”

“And he's the archer, right? You could almost say he's like the Greek sharpshooter-”

“Lance just because you did well at lazer tag that one time-”

Lance shushed him, going as far as to put his hand over the other man’s mouth. “Hear me out here. I know it can be a bit harder to find, but how about when you get scared you look for Orion? Then it's like I'm with you,” he offered, moving his hand from Keith’s mouth back to his shoulder.

“I'm not a little kid anymore, Lance, I don’t need some kind of security blanket when things get rough.”

“I know… but I just thought… y’know, maybe it'll help sometimes.”

“Yeah, okay.” Keith rolled his eyes, but there was something different about the look on his face, something almost… relieved? Maybe Lance was just seeing things, but he really didn’t think he was.

 

Keith finished the last of his curly fries and the boys were climbing back into the car. Lance once again claimed the driver's seat despite his boyfriend’s offer to take over, and set his phone up to play a more chill playlist, all Jack Johnson and Coin and acoustic covers of songs. It was a lot more relaxing than Keith was really hoping for, and before he knew it he was dozing off against the window.

He felt Lance's hand on his knee and he covered it with his own, intertwining their fingers with a soft smile. With the gentle rocking of the car and Lance's soft voice singing, he felt...safe. It was just the two of them, the open road, and the stars. He could be himself, be open and honest, and he knew that no matter what he felt or said, Lance would accept him. Maybe he could…

“Lance?”

“Hm?”

“Did I ever tell you about my dad leaving?” He asked, his voice uncharacteristically small.

Lance shook his head. “All you ever told me was he left when you were sixteen and you had to move in with your aunt and uncle.”

“...Do you want me to tell you?”

He glanced over at his boyfriend, and gave his knee a reassuring squeeze. “Only if you want to, babe.”

Keith nodded, and stared down at his lap, looking at the contrast in their skin tones instead of meeting his fleeting glanced. “It was my first day of junior year actually. I was a latchkey kid anyway, so I wasn't surprised when I got home and he wasn’t there. There was a note though, and that was new. So I picked it up and read it, and all it said was ‘I have to go out for something important, be back as soon as I can. Be good, I love you, lil dipper. Dad,’” his eyes burned, and he frowned, turning his head to glare out the window. “Well, he didn’t come home that night. Or the next night. Or the few nights after that. I tried calling him a few times, but it just went to voicemail.

“Like a week later the house ran out of groceries, so I called my uncle Dan, told him dad left and I was out of food. Dan lived an hour away but I swear he was there in thirty minutes. He told me to pack everything that would fit in his truck, and while I did that he kept trying to call dad.

“Dad never answered so Dan took me to his house in Dallas. I missed about a week of school before everyone decided dad wasn’t coming back. I got enrolled in the high school by his place, and just kinda picked up life there like nothing ever happened.

“It was...it was really hard, Lance. He just _left,_ and it was like he fell off the face of the earth. I was so pissed off for so long because he abandoned me, Lance. We were all the other person had for so many years, and he just _left_ me like I didn't even matter. So after like a year of not hearing from him, I decided he died. It's a lot easier to get over someone when you just decide they're dead.”

It felt like hours before either of them said anything, though it was just a few minutes. Keith kept scowling at the sky, and Lance drove quietly, music forgotten as he stroked his thumb over his boyfriend’s knee in small, soothing circles.

Finally it was Keith that spoke up again. “I don’t care that he's dead,” he said, more for his own benefit. “I already thought he was dead anyway, so I don't care that it's been confirmed five years later.”

Lance just hummed to show that he heard him, and gave his knee a gentle squeeze.

“I'm okay.”

“I know.”

“I'm not even mad anymore.”

“I know, babe.”

Keith looked at him, ready to glare at his boyfriend for not believing him, but Lance wasn’t smirking. He wasn’t giving him that shit eating grin, he wasn’t even looking at Keith. He was watching the road, his lips pulled down into a frown but his jaw relaxed. Lance didn’t seem very happy, but he was taking his word for it. He wasn’t telling him it was okay to be upset or telling him it wasn’t his fault like his aunt liked to do, and for that, Keith was eternally grateful.

He hadn’t talked about his dad in years. He moved to Minneapolis four years ago to live with Shiro--they had been close growing up but he left for college when Keith was thirteen--and after giving him the full story he shut it up within himself. If anyone ever asked about his family he just told them his parents were both dead then changed the subject. It was nice getting the truth--the _full_ truth--off his chest.

“Hey Lance?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any errors! It was written on my phone so I'll probably go back once I get home and edit this.  
> Fun fact: the angst in this chapter was fueled by my own rage at being in a car for seven hours--and counting. In the words of my friend: *voice over* and that was the day Courtney gained a deep hatred of mountains

**Author's Note:**

> SO YEAH. Just a short thing to establish some stuff, next chapter will be their drive down and exploring and junk. I'm not abandoning my Pretty Face fic, I should hopefully have that next chapter and the second to this one in the next few days since we're driving back home now and I will literally go insane otherwise :^)


End file.
